


I Can Feel It (Larry Vampire AU)

by yvessaintlourry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Cancer, Death, Fluff, Happy Ending, I cried while writing this, I'm posting this at 4 in the morning, I'm really sorry, M/M, One Shot, Power Bottom Louis, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, don't worry no one is dead at the end, harry's a vampire, harry's like 323, he wakes up, idk how to tag, im bad at tags, im sorry, larry - Freeform, louis has cancer, stylinson, the storyline is better than it sounds, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 10:11:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11780985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvessaintlourry/pseuds/yvessaintlourry
Summary: "I can't be the reason you die," Harry whimpers."You could be the reason I live." Louis smiles, trying to convince Harry, and for a second, Harry looks like he's contemplating it. That look quickly escapes from his face, and Harry shakes his head."If I kill you, I've got to live with that forever.""If you save me, you get to live with me forever," Louis begs.OR the one where Louis's incredibly sick, and Harry could be his one shot at survival.





	I Can Feel It (Larry Vampire AU)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in like 3 days in total, so I hope you at least kind of like it??? 
> 
> Feel free to follow me on my insta (@yvessaintlarry) or on my rinsta (@casifist)

Harry has spent his entire life trying not to get attached to people. All 323 years of his life. Or since he was turned at least. 

You see, Harry Styles is a vampire. Has been since almost 300 years ago. He lost everything that's ever been important to him in the early 1700's when the vial bloodsucker that turned him forced him to fake his death and leave all of his family and friends behind without a trace.

He would rather have had the cancer take him, if he's honest.

Harry tries his best to not be bitter, but after awhile, you just kind of want to die, even if you don't  _really_ at the same time. It's a weird feeling, knowing that you're never going to face that final right of passage. You're never going to experience the afterlife, or even really know whether or whether not it's real.

Harry can't even get sick anymore. Apparently, vampires are immune to most diseases, and the ones they aren't immune to can't kill them, because they heal too _fucking_ fast. Harry broke his arm once while hunting one night, and when he woke up in the morning, he was completely fine.

That's another thing about vampires. They don't necessarily _have to_ sleep, but it does help to regain the little energy lost after a hunt. It's nice to sleep on a full stomach. They don't sparkle, either (though Harry kind of wishes he did sometimes).

They can go out into the sun just fine, it's just they're pale, so they sunburn easily. But the red tint is usually gone within the hour, so it's not a big deal at all. 

He _does_ have very cold skin, that stereotype is true. The one about garlic is not, though. Harry puts garlic in everything when he treats himself to human meals. He absolutely loves it.

By the way, Harry doesn't feed on humans. He hasn't done that in quite awhile. He prefers wild animals now. 

He tries to only hunt at night when he does. He's just so clumsy though, that he trips on a lot of things on the way, and he must have ruined at least 7 pairs of his new favorite kind of boots in the past couple of months. 

Last night, his 8th pair of Chelsea boots were absolutely annihilated, so he has to go and buy _another_ pair. Maybe some nice tennies as well this time.

///

Harry already has his box of brown Chelsea boots under his arm when he starts searching for a good pair of tennies. He probably should have thought about getting shoes specifically for running a while ago. Would have saved him some money.

He hears the familiar sound of bells ringing, and pays no mind to the person who's just walked into the shoe store. There were a few people here besides Harry, but he tries his best to ignore them like usual. 

Harry used to be such a social person. He was out every weekend at balls and soirees, starting friendly conversations with everyone he possibly could, and seducing a cute boy every once in awhile. They would sneak away into a closet or something where no one would find them, for fear of persecution. 

Times are different now, and Harry knows that if he found a boy he liked, he could actually go out in public with him and _hold his hand_ in front of people, among other things. But there's no point, when he knows he'll just lose him in the long run. Harry doesn't think he can ever face losing anyone again. Not one that he loves. And that's why he refuses to spark up any relationships, whether they're romantic ones or not.

"You look confused," a small, but confident voice says in amusement.

"What?" Harry says, looking around for the source of the voice. He apparently turned his body slightly too quickly, shocked that someone was striking up a conversation with him, because the boot box under his arm goes flying to the feet of a brunette a few feet away from him. "Oops," Harry says sheepishly, taking a couple of steps towards the boy to pick up the shoes.

He doesn't get a chance to pick them up himself though, because the brunette is crouching down to collect the shoes and placing them back into their box. "Hi there," the boy laughs lightly as he stands up, box in hand.

He looks up into Harry's eyes, and Harry's heart drops at the sight of the boy's eyes. Harry doesn't think he's ever seen eyes so blue. Harry's so taken aback by the man's appearance, that he forgets to speak and just stares down at him with wide eyes and his mouth slightly ajar.

The brunette raises his eyebrows at Harry, before chuckling slightly and holding the box out farther so that maybe he'll take it from him. 

"Oh, shit, sorry," Harry mumbles, coming back to his senses and takes the box from his hands that Harry decides are quite dainty.

"I'm Louis," the blue-eyed boy says once his hands are free.

"Harry," he replies, knowing very well that he needs to get out of the conversation (if you can even call this a conversation) as quickly as he can. The boy smiles up at him, and the crinkles by his eyes make Harry die a little inside. He clears his throat. "Well, I need to shop for some shoes, so," he mumbles with a sheepish smile, walking around the smaller shoes.

"What kind of shoes?" Louis asks, following behind him with a skip in his step.

Harry pauses and sighs quietly, before turning around to face Louis once again. "Tennies," he says. "for running," he adds. He can't help but smile down at the boy in front of him while Louis begins to search the racks for what he thinks the perfect shoes for Harry would be. Harry's not sure why he's helping him like this, as he obviously doesn't work here, but he's not about to complain. 

"These are nice," Louis smiles, holding up a pair of white Adidas. Harry nods for a moment, before he begins thinking about the color. Vampire + white shoes = disaster.

She shakes his head at that thought. "Probably not a good color for me," he laughs.

"Me neither," Louis laughs, putting them back and grabbing the black versions next to them. "Black?"

"Perfect," Harry nods with a smile.

///

Harry has absolutely no idea how Louis ended up at his flat with him. Absolutely no fucking idea.

But here Harry is, on his couch with a boy in his lap while he's attached to his neck, hoping to all that is good and holy that his fangs don't come out as they sometimes do when he gets too worked up.

"Jesus," Louis breathes, tearing Harry's lips from his neck, before placing his below Harry's ear and nibbling slightly.

The action forces a breathy moan to leave Harry's lips as he rolls his head back to allow Louis some more room to play. Louis trails kisses along Harry's jaw until he makes it to his mouth where his tongue begins to explore Harry's, and Harry is so _fucking_ horny at this point.

If Harry had to guess the last time he let himself have any sort of intimate contact with someone, it was probably about 10 or 15 years ago, but something about Louis makes him want to let go a bit.

Louis pulls away suddenly, and Harry whines at the loss of contact. "Let's go to your bedroom," he whispers into Harry's ear in a way that has him almost coming in his jeans right then and there. Harry swallows and nods slowly as Louis stands up and pulls him towards the hallway, Harry pointing him in the direction of where he sleeps (sometimes).

After closing the door, Louis immediately attaches his lips to Harry's collarbones as he quickly undoes the buttons on Harry's shirt, the button on his jeans following shortly after. He slips Harry's shirt off of his shoulders and pushes his jeans down as far as he can before Harry just kicks them off of his legs to the other side of the room, leaving him in only his boxers. He lifts Louis's t-shirt over his head in one swift motion, before pressing his lips against the smaller boy's once again. He goes to undo his jeans, but is quickly stopped by Louis's hands as his own are pushed away.

"Go lie down on the bed," Louis says to Harry, and Harry's eyes widen a bit at his seductive tone.

"Um, what?"

"You heard me, Curly. Now be a good boy, and go lie down on the bed," Louis repeats, reaching over to smack Harry on the ass once he turns to do as he's told. Harry yelps at the sudden contact, and his boxers somehow become even tighter as he lies down on his back, waiting for whatever Louis's planning to do next.

He watches as Louis searches through Harry's drawers until he finally finds what he was looking for. He turns around with one of Harry's headscarves in his hands and a smirk on his face as he climbs on top of Harry and swiftly pins Harry's hands above his head, using the headscarf as handcuffs and tying him to the headboard.

Harry knows he could easily get out of the restraint, as he _does_ have an incredible amount of strength, but the sheer act of being tied up has Harry moaning in anticipation.

Louis smirks at the sound that comes from Harry before he stands up and begins to slowly remove his jeans as Harry watches on. Harry really doesn't have the patience to be teased right now. Before he knows it, Louis is completely naked in front of him, and, _jesus_ , Harry truly cannot believe just how beautiful the man is.

Louis climbs back on top of the whining boy and begins kissing down his neck and his chest and his stomach until he reaches the lining of his boxers, pulling them down his thighs as Harry lifts his hips to help. As soon as his boxers have fallen to the floor with the rest of their clothes, Louis immediately takes Harry's cock in his hand, licking a stripe from the base to the tip, causing Harry to groan at the sensation. 

"Louis, come _on_ ," Harry moans as Louis teases the tip with his tongue. Louis giggles, but obliges, taking Harry's _entire_ length in his mouth until it hits the back of his throat. "Jesus," Harry gasps at the feeling, squeezing his eyes shut as Louis begins to bob his head up and down and hollow his cheeks until Harry literally can't take it much longer. " _Louis_ , Louis, _please_ , oh, _fuck!_ Louis, oh my _god,"_  he gasps, air getting caught in his throat as he tries his hardest not to rip the restraints off of his wrists to grip Louis by his hair. 

Louis listens to his pleads, lifting his lips off of Harry's cock with a _pop_ and smirking up at him.

Harry rolls his eyes. "I'm sure this is all very amusing for you."

"You're right," Louis laughs. "It's fun to watch you squirm, Harold," he adds as he climbs farther onto him until their noses are almost touching. He brushes their lips together to tease Harry a little more, before reaching over and fishing a bottle of lube and a condom out of Harry's bedside table. 

Harry always keeps those things around just in case he decides to bring someone home for whatever reason. Thank god he does that.

Louis squirts a generous amount of lube into his hand and spreads it on his fingers, reaching behind himself to begin working himself open on top of Harry. The sight of Louis fingering himself only makes Harry need some sort of friction _as soon as possible_. Every few seconds, Louis's chest brushes itself against Harry's cock, but he needs _more_. Louis finishes prepping himself only a few minutes later, and Harry's cock is _leaking_. Louis rips the condom wrapper open with his teeth before quickly rolling it down Harry's cock and squeezing some more lube out, and spreading it all over with his hand. Once Harry's lubed up, Louis sits on his knees and slowly lowers himself down onto Harry's length, the pair both moaning loudly as he does so.

The way that Louis moves his hips against Harry's has Harry almost screaming in ecstasy. He doesn't know how much longer he can take without touching Louis, because, _god_ , he needs to touch him. He needs to run his hands over his soft skin, and he needs to grab his perfect ass, and he needs to _feel_ him.

Louis's eyes are closed above him as he grinds himself up and down on Harry's cock, so Harry decides to take this opportunity to easily _rip_ the headscarf that's holding his arms above his head. His hands immediately make their way to Louis's hip, and _god_ , his hips are amazing. 

Harry hears Louis gasp at the sudden contact, most likely shocked at the fact that Harry got out of the restraint, but he doesn't get the chance to pay much mind to it, because Harry is pushing Louis down onto himself harder and harder until Louis is screaming Harry's name in pure bliss as his hips snap up into his own over and over and over again until they're both coming undone in front of each other.

Louis falls forward onto Harry's bare chest as they both do their best to catch their breath. 

Once he can breathe properly again, Harry gets up and grabs a towel from the bathroom, wiping both himself and Louis down with it, before climbing back into bed with the smaller boy.

"So," he starts. "That's not really how I expected to spend my afternoon."

Louis laughs and scoots in to Harry more to cuddle him closer. Harry takes him into his arms without a second thought. "I _definitely_ want to do that again sometime," Louis says, and Harry honestly wouldn't mind that either, so he nods. 

"I have a birthday next week," he says. "I'll be 23." He makes sure to subtract about 300 years.

"Perfect. We'll celebrate, then," Louis smiles, and Harry feels himself smiling back.

///

They celebrate the next week like planned. Then they celebrate the next week. And almost every day the next. And for the next month. And the next.

They continue to celebrate until a few months after their initial meeting.

"I think I'm in love with you," Louis blurts out one day while him and Harry watch Netflix on Harry's couch in their pajamas. Harry, shocked by the words, chokes on his water and ends up spitting most of it out onto his carpet, the rest becoming lodged in the wrong part of his throat, forcing him to be thrown into a coughing fit. "Are you alright?" Louis worries, patting Harry lightly on the back.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm-" he coughs once more. "Yeah, I think I'm fine," he swallows. "What-what did you say?" 

Harry prays to everything that is holy that Louis didn't say what he thinks he said, because if he did, then Harry's afraid that he might feel it too, and how does he think he would be able to handle losing somebody else?

"I think I'm in love with you," Louis says again, looking into Harry's eyes this time, and Harry's royally fucked, because he fucking feels it too.

"I love you too."

///

"What?" Louis says quietly to his doctor as another tear falls from his cheek.

"Cancer," the doctor repeats sympathetically. "Terrible cancer, Louis."

"How terrible?" Louis says as his lip begins to quiver.

The doctor shakes his head. "You can try treatment, but," he sighs. "I don't see you making it to Christmas."

Louis's breathing becomes erratic as he tries to take in the information he's being given. "What kind of treatment?"

"The only kind that might possibly prolong your life would be a new trial. You wouldn't lose your hair, and it seems to be expanding a lot of peoples' lives, even if just by a few weeks."

"Okay," Louis swallows. "I'll try anything."

"Okay, then I'll get you set up to start the treatment on Tuesday. You'll have to come down to the hospital 3 times a week for an hour until," the doctor pauses. "You know." 

"Until I die," Louis finishes, looking up at the ceiling to try and keep anymore tears from falling. 

"Yes," he confirms.

"That's just perfect," Louis laughs bitterly with a shake of his head. 

How the fuck is he supposed to tell Harry that he has cancer? And that there's literally _no way_ that he'll make it to his 26th birthday?

How is Louis supposed to break his heart?

///

Louis doesn't tell Harry. He knows he needs to, but he just _can't_. 

3 days a week for an entire month, he tells Harry that he's going to the gym when he's actually having a needle inserted into his chest along with some sort of drug. Then after the 'gym,' he goes back to Harry's flat and tries not to break down in front of him.

Little does he know that Harry's been using Louis's 'gym time' as the perfect time for him to feed, because with how often Louis's been coming over, there's no way he'd be able to sneak out at night like he usually would. 

///

Louis is exhausted. The doctor wasn't kidding when he said that the drugs would tire him out completely by the 6 week mark. The hospital actually had Louis go in early to have a scan to see how his cancer's doing, and to his terrible fucking luck, there's been no change in the growth. He's still fucking dying.

Because he went in early, he ended up being able to get out of there early too. He heads straight from the hospital to Harry's flat with his gym bag in his back seat and tears threatening to fall down his cheeks.

He's able to hold them back and suppress his feelings as he pulls up to Harry's building.

He slings his bag over his shoulder and walks slowly up the 3 flights of stairs to Harry's floor until he's knocking on his door. He waits for Harry to open the door, but when he's still not inside after the 3rd knock, Louis reaches under the doormat and finds Harry's spare key hiding beneath it. He lets himself in, slightly confused as to why he had to, because Harry said he'd just be home all day, but he ignores it and watches Netflix while he waits for his boyfriend to return from wherever the hell he is right now. 

He only ends up waiting about 10 minutes until he hears the jingle of keys in the doorknob as Harry clumsily unlocks his front door. 

He keeps his eyes focused on the episode of The Office that he's currently on as he hears footsteps coming down Harry's small hallway.

"Louis," Harry gasps in shock, freezing in his tracks.

"Hey, love, what have you been do- _what the fuck?_ " Louis screams, falling onto the floor from his place on the couch as he looks over at Harry.

Harry, his boyfriend, who is currently _covered_ in what looks a hell of a lot like-

"Is that-is that blood?" he asks horrified, standing up and backing away from the man covered in red.

"Louis, please just let me explain," Harry says with wide eyes, taking a step towards his boyfriend. 

"Do not come any closer to me, Harry," Louis warns. "What are you a cannibal or something? Or are you going to try and tell me you're a mythical creature like a werewolf?" he scoffs.

"I'm not a werewolf, Louis. Werewolves aren't real. I'm a vampire," Harry explains, and immediately feels like an idiot, because he wouldn't have believed it if someone told him that they were a vampire while he was still human. He's able to get close enough to Louis to where there's only the width of the couch between them.

"Hah hah, very funny. I'm not an idiot, Harry," Louis folds his arms, trying to act like he isn't terrified for his life.

"No, Louis. I'm a vampire. I can prove it," Harry reaches for Louis's hand, but Louis quickly jerks away. 

"You're not touching me, you-you fucking _cannibal!_ Who did you kill? Where do you hide the bodies? This is _insane!_ When were you planning on killing me, huh? I'm calling the police," Louis says, running to the front door. Before Louis can even blink, he feels a gust of wind, and suddenly Harry is standing in front of the door, blocking his way out. "How the fuck did you get there? What is happening?" Louis breathes. 

Louis is so confused and so disoriented by this point that he can't bring himself to breathe correctly. 

"Louis, are you okay? Hey, can you hear me?" Harry asks frantically, the worry apparent on his face.

Louis's head feels light and his vision and hearing fade quickly. 

Before Harry knows it, Louis's eyes roll back into his head and only the whites of his eyes are visible. He begins to fall to the ground, but Harry reacts quickly, as usual, and comes to Louis's rescue, catching him before he can hit the floor. 

He picks Louis up into his arms and carries him up his stairs to his room with ease, placing him down and wetting a cold cloth to put onto his forehead. Harry pulls up a chair beside his bed and waits for Louis to wake up. 

And waits. And waits. And waits. 

"Louis." Harry urges, brushing his fringe from his forehead. "Louis, you fainted, and you didn't even fall completely to the ground. Wake up, please."

Harry touches Louis's forehead again and goes into his bathroom to re-wet the cloth. 

Louis begins to regain consciousness while Harry is in the bathroom. _'It was just a dream,'_ Louis thinks. He squeezes his eyes shut and sighs in relief when he hears the bathroom door open. Harry walks out, and Louis smiles fondly at him. "Good morning, Harry."

"Lou, it's 8 at night," Harry chuckles. "You fainted, are you alright?"

"Wait," Louis exclaims as his upper body springs up, "I actually fainted? You mean everything I thought was a dream actually happened? You killed someone?" Louis starts to become frantic again and so Harry quickly begins trying to calm him down. 

"Louis, you can't faint again, take deep breaths, everything is alright," he says quickly.

"I-" Louis is hyperventilating by this point. "I-don't-think," he takes a particularly sharp breath here. "I don't think I can."

Harry nods and speeds downstairs, grabs a paper bag, and presents it to Louis all before Louis has time to process Harry leaving the room. 

"How are you running that fast?" Louis cries, breathing into the bag.

"Lou, I told you, I'm a vampire. I have the ability to run fast," Harry says, laughing slightly. 

"That's _absurd!_ Vampires aren't real, Harry!" Louis all but screams at him. 

Harry gives Louis a soft, _'are you kidding me'_ look. 

"Okay, wise guy, then _prove_ it. Prove to me that you're a vampire," Louis challenges. 

"The running didn't prove it to you?"

Louis shakes his head. 

"Alright," Harry shrugs, opening his mouth and bringing his fangs down into sight. "Touch one," Harry says, poking the end of one of his fangs with his pointer finger. 

Louis slowly brings his hand up to Harry's open mouth and presses the pad of his finger to the point of Harry's fang. He feels the sharpness of Harry's tooth contrast with the soft flesh of his finger and bursts into tears, completely overwhelmed. "Oh my god, my boyfriend's a murderer!" he cries into his hands. 

Harry frantically shakes his head. "Lou, I'm not a murderer. At least not a people-murderer. Vegans might hate me though," he chuckles. "I stopped feeding on humans in 1903. Or was it '04?"

"What?" Louis asks, looking up at Harry with red, watery eyes. 

"I feed on animals," Harry explains. "Wild animals. Not even farm animals, but wild animals. No one misses them. I'm not stealing. I'm not murdering people. I'm surviving. Not that I wouldn't survive without blood, I would just be a dick, if I'm honest. Also the need for human blood would most likely come back."

"Why did you stop feeding on humans?" Louis asks, not really sure if this whole part of his life is real or not. 

"Well-okay, so I was born in 1694, and I was turned in 1717. So, basically I'm 23 physically, but I'm actually 323. Quite old. I was diagnosed with some form of cancer at 21 and was on my last leg, so a man came in and turned me. He told-well, more like hypnotized-the doctors to tell my family I had passed. The man who turned me wasn't a very nice one and told me-and others-that the only way to survive was by feeding on humans. If you begin feeding on a human and stop before they die, they become a vampire, so you don't want that, because then you'd have a lot of enemies. Or at least that's what he told us. We stayed with him for decades upon decades until someone he turned for no reason had had enough and decided to take care of him for good in the mid-1800's."

"Someone killed him?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Remember how in Twilight, to kill a vampire you have to tear off a vampires head and rip them to pieces and burn their entire body?"

Louis nods. 

"That pretty much sums it up."

"I'm so sorry, Harry."

"No, it's fine. He was honestly a terrible person. Very manipulative and abusive, emotionally and physically. He made us hunt for him every day. Each of us. There were 12 of us, so that was 12 lives gone per day plus the people we fed on. It wasn't a good setup. I'm not proud of what I did, and I regret it every day. Me and 8 others from that group decided to switch to animals in the early 1900's."

"3 didn't?" Louis asks. 

"No, they decided it was too difficult. Which, it is difficult, but it's not impossible."

Louis nods slowly, when suddenly he has a thought. "Harry, when you turn people into vampires, do they live forever?"

Harry nods slowly. "Yes. But I've never turned anyone. I wouldn't want to put them through the pain. It's an overwhelmingly painful process."

"How so?"

"Well, to start off, the initial bite is excruciating. There's a layer of this chemical type thing-I have no idea what it's called-on the outside of our fangs, and when it touches human flesh, it makes it feel like a snake with more venom than all of the other snakes in the world combined biting you. Then, in order to turn, you have to drink some of the vampire's blood that's turning you, unlike what the man who turned me told us. The second the blood hits your stomach, it begins to feel like someone lit you on fire from the inside. Absolutely excruciating. All you do for days is scream and vomit and pass out because of the pain. When the fangs come in, it feels like you imagine Wolverine feels whenever those metal stakes come out of his knuckles. It's just-it's not a fun process."

"Oh my god."

"Most people don't even make it through long enough to actually become one. It really takes a toll on you."

"People die when they're turned?" Louis gasps. 

"More often than not."

///

It's a couple of months later when Louis finally gets up the nerve to ask Harry the question he's been wanting to since he found out about his little secret.

Harry was able to convince Louis to move in with him last month, and they had just finished unpacking all of his things the week before.

"Harry, can we talk?" Louis asks, shyly, walking into the kitchen while Harry prepares a meal for Louis. Harry will go out to feed around midnight, like he usually does. 

"Yeah, babe, what's up? Is chicken okay tonight, by the way? We really need to go to the shop," Harry says. 

"Yeah, that sounds great babe. We can go tomorrow," Louis answers, nervously chewing on his bottom lip and messing with the bottom of the oversized sweater he borrowed from Harry. 

Harry furrows his eyebrows and pauses cooking to turn towards Louis. "Are you alright, Lou? You look really pale. Do you feel sick?"

"No, Haz, I feel alright, I just wanted to discuss something with you."

"Alright, well, discuss away," Harry smiles, bringing some of his attention back to the chicken breast on the stove. 

Louis takes a deep breath, preparing for Harry to go off when he says what he wants-no, needs to say. 

"I-" Louis starts, losing all hope that Harry will go along with this. Harry raises an eyebrow, and looks back at the chicken. One more deep breath and "I want you to turn me into a vampire."

All movement from Harry immediately ceases. Louis bites his lip in anticipation. "What?" Harry asks without a trace of emotion, still staring down at the stove. 

"I-I want you to turn me into a vampire," Louis repeats, meekly. 

Harry's head quickly turns to face Louis. He looks confused, shocked, and a little bit angry. "Wha-are you kidding-why would you think that I-you know how I feel about-just- _No!_ " Harry yells, shutting the stove off and moving the chicken onto a plate along with some broccoli and rice. "Your dinner's ready," Harry mumbles, quickly striding out of the room.

Louis whimpers to himself when he hears the front door slam. He falls to the floor and buries his head into his knees. He sits there for a few minutes, knowing that since Harry went out to hunt early, he won't be back for at least an hour. "I don't want to die. _Fuck_ cancer. I'm not ready to die," he sobs into his knees. 

He didn't notice the tall, familiar figure standing above him until-"What?" Harry asked, taken aback. Louis's head shoots up to see him with their mail in his hand. 

"I thought you had gone out to hunt," Louis squeaked out, not knowing what else to say. 

"I was going to, but it's still too early. I don't want someone to see me. What do you mean 'fuck cancer?'" he rambles, completely taken aback by Louis's words.

"I-I, I just-"

"Louis," Harry says, slowly sliding down to where Louis is on the floor and sitting in front of him, taking hold of his small hands with his much larger ones. "What's going on? Are you-are you dying? Do you have cancer?" Harry asked, tears forming in his eyes. 

Louis bursts into tears once again and nods his head slowly, tearing his hands away from Harry's and hiding his face in them. 

Harry begins choking on his own sobs and pulls Louis into his lap, hugging him with as much might as he can without hurting him. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harry asks between breaths.

"I couldn't hurt you. I thought I might be able to get better, but I'm only getting worse. The doctor said that he's not sure how much time I have left, but it's not that much. I have a few months, maybe. That's it. I won't make it to Christmas," Louis finds it difficult to speak while Harry cries his eyes out. "Oh, Haz," he says lovingly while wiping away Harry's tears. "I love you. And I want to spend as long as I possibly can with you," he runs his fingers through Harry's hair. "That's why I need you to turn me. I want to be with you for the rest of eternity."

"Louis," Harry whispers. "I-I can't." His chest feels like it's about to explode.

"Why not?" 

"You could die," Harry cries quietly, tears still running down his cheeks. 

"I'm going to die regardless, Harry."

"I can't be the reason you die," Harry whimpers. 

"You could be the reason I live." Louis smiles, trying to convince Harry, and for a second, Harry looks like he's contemplating it. That look quickly escapes from his face, and Harry shakes his head. 

"I can't, Louis. I'm so sorry."

Louis starts to become upset. "You could if you wanted to, Harry."

"If I kill you, I've got to live with that forever."

"If you save me, you get to live with _me_  forever," Louis begs. 

"Louis, you don't understand the pain you would go through, even if it did work."

"A few weeks of pain is worth the rest of eternity with you."

"Louis, there isn't a specific timeline that goes with this. You could be in pain for 5 minutes, or you could be in pain for 50 years. You'll wish you were dead. I can't watch you go through that. If it takes longer than the time you have left then you'll die anyways, and you'll die in excruciating pain."

"It's worth it!" Louis exclaims, becoming agitated. 

"You don't know that, Louis." Harry says, remaining calm. 

At this point, Louis becomes incredibly annoyed and quickly stands up, getting out of Harry's lap and his tight grip. "I can't believe how selfish you're being," Louis seethes, quickly making his way to their shared bedroom. 

Harry's head falls into his hands and he continues to sob for what feels like hours. He forgets to hunt, and Louis finds Harry sleeping on the kitchen floor the next morning. 

///

"I can't do this alone, Harry," Louis says in almost a whisper a few days later as he lies tangled in Harry's muscular arms.

"Who said that you're doing this alone?" Harry replies with tears brimming his eyes, knowing very well that the end result of this entire thing is going to destroy him completely. 

"I'm just saying," Louis pauses to swallow. "I know that this is really difficult on you already, and I'd really like to tell you that if you need to go ahead and get out before everything happens, you can, but I really can't do this alone," Louis finishes as he breaks into a fit of sobs.

"Shh, shh, shh," Harry shushes him gently, holding his tighter against his chest and pressing small kisses to the top of his head. "I'm here with you 'til the end, Lou," he says, choking on tears of his own. "'Til the very end. I promise."

///

He doesn't know how much time has passed, but Louis's been feeling like absolute shit the past couple of weeks. And he knows that Harry can tell he's been off, but Louis can't bring himself to actually tell him. 

Louis can't keep a meal down anymore. He can't stand for more than 5 minutes at a time without everything hurting. He can barely walk across his and Harry's apartment without feeling lightheaded. He can't even have a normal sex life anymore, because he gets too tired half way through. 

Louis knows what all of this means. He knows he's dying, and he knows that he doesn't have much time left. He knows. 

He can't tell Harry though. He just can't. He can't hurt him like that. He can't hurt him by telling him that he's dying sooner than he thought he would, but he can't just die without warning and hurt him that way either. He doesn't know what to do. 

"Hey, Lou," Harry says with envelopes between his teeth and 3 grocery bags on each arm as he closes their front door with his foot. 

"Hey, babe," Louis says back, his voice weak. Harry walks over to him on his way to the kitchen, so Louis carefully takes the mail from Harry's mouth and gives him a sweet peck on the lips. 

"You have a letter from your doctor, Lou," Harry mentions. "Maybe it's good news?" he hopes before he walks into the kitchen. 

Louis sighs down at the mail and throws it onto the table. He knows it's not good news. During his last appointment, his doctor told him that he would be receiving a letter in the mail about funeral arrangements and how to tell your family. It's a weird thing to be told at a doctor's appointment, but it is what it is. 

He walks slowly to the kitchen, steadying himself on the couch for a moment while he prepares himself to act healthy in front of Harry. He takes a breath and makes his way into the kitchen, sitting down on a barstool. 

"Do you need some help?" Louis asks, praying that Harry says no. 

"Actually, yeah," Harry says, and Louis cringes. "I think I forgot the bag with the ice cream in the car. Will you go get it, love?" he asks as he puts the eggs in the fridge. He sees Louis's face fall, and worry immediately hits him. "Are you feeling okay, Lou?"

"Yes," Louis says with too much pep as he perks himself up and stands up from the stool, grabbing the keys off the counter. He ignores the head rush he gets to the best of his ability as he makes his way to their car. 

When he gets to the car, he has to sit in the passengers seat with the ice cream in his lap while he waits for his vision to focus again. 

He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before he's finally able to get himself out of the car. He drags himself up the stairs, having to sit down on the steps more than once to catch his breath. He knows he has to hurry up if he doesn't want Harry to worry, so he forces himself up the last flight of stairs. 

He shouldn't have done that. He knows he shouldn't have done that. He  _really_  shouldn't have done that, because his head is pounding and his vision is going very dark very quickly and his hearing is fading and the ground is getting closer and everything is black. 

///

Louis went to get the ice cream out of the car 10 minutes ago. 10 minutes. It takes 2 minutes tops to get to the car, and Louis's been gone for 10 minutes. 

Harry knows that Louis doesn't like when he worries, and he knows that Louis's gotten a little worse, but he's not awful yet, so he's trying not to worry. At least he doesn't think he's awful yet. 

It's when Louis's been gone for 15 minutes that Harry decides to go get him. He assumes he's just resting in the car or something. 

Harry's only 2 steps out the door when he notices the lifeless body on the floor in front of him and the melted ice cream splattered all over the ground. 

"Louis!" he yells, falling to his knees and quickly but gently turning the smaller boy over onto his back. "Louis, wake up," he says again, tapping his cheek. His face is empty of all color, and there's a small cut on his forehead from where he must have hit it on the way down. "Louis," Harry repeats quietly in a broken sob, wiping the sweat off of Louis's forehead. He put his finger under his nose to make sure he's still breathing, and checks his pulse after he feels the air. His pulse is weak, and Harry doesn't think he'll be able to live without Louis. "Okay. Okay," he says to himself, wiping the tears from his cheeks to try and pull himself together.

He takes a deep breath to calm down a little, before he picks Louis up in his arms, his head drooping lifelessly. The way his body falls makes Harry's heart break, and he wonders how long Louis's been feeling this bad. He moves Louis's head so that it's leaning against his chest. Harry knows he's not about to drive across London to the hospital. That'll take way too fucking long, and Harry doesn't know how long Louis has, so he runs. He runs, he sprints, he uses his 'vampire voodoo magic' as Louis calls it, and he arrives at the hospital with Louis in his arms in just under 5 minutes. 

"Someone help! Someone please help!" Harry yells frantically at the top of his lungs as he walks through the doors, Louis still in his arms. "He needs help!" he yells again as a nurse runs up to him with a gurney. "He collapsed outside of our flat. He has cancer, he's not supposed to make it to Christmas," Harry rambles with tears running down his face again as he sets Louis onto the mobile bed. 

"Okay, sir, you're going to need to stay out here, alright? We're going to check him out, but you need to stay out here," the nurse says, pressing her hand against Harry's chest to keep him from leaving the waiting area. 

"No, you don't understand, I told him I'd stay with him. I told him I'd be there! I promised him I'd be there when he-," Harry swallows, lowering his voice towards the end. "when he-" he trails off. 

"You can see him after we're done, sir. I'll come get you when he's in a room," the nurse says, giving Harry a sympathetic look. 

"Okay," Harry breathes as he watches the love of his life being whisked away on a stretcher, completely unconscious. 

His face contorts as the doors swing closed, and he falls to his knees in tears, shoving the palms of his hands to his eyes to hide his face as he weeps. 

///

It's nearly 3 hours later when the nurse  _finally_  comes to get Harry. 

He immediately stands up when he sees her, and she walks over to him with a sympathetic look on her face. "You can see Mr. Tomlinson now," she says, and he nods, following her down a long hall. 

"Did he wake up?" he asks as she stops in front of a room. 

The nurse shakes her head. "Not yet. We're confident he'll wake before morning though," she says. 

Harry nods and swallows nervously as he walks into the room. His boyfriend is still almost lifeless and pale as he lays in a bed hooked up to multiple machines and an IV is attached to the inside of his elbow. There are a few stitches where he hit his head, and Harry can't help but cry at the sight of him. He looks at the heart rate monitor, and his heart beat is still weak. It's this moment that Harry realizes that his boyfriend is dying. He can't run away from it anymore, and he can't pretend it's not happening, because he's really dying. 

There's still 4 months until Christmas, but it doesn't look like he'll make it even close to December. Maybe October. 

He sits down in the chair next to the bed and just looks at Louis. Louis doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve cancer. He doesn't deserve to die. Not this early in his life. 

Not ever. 

///

Harry jolts awake and is met with a pain in his neck from sleeping on an overly uncomfortable hospital chair. He glances over at the clock on the wall, and it reads  _4:37am._

He looks over at Louis, and the boy still isn't awake, but his heart rate seems to be a little better from what Harry can tell. Whatever's in the bag that's being fed into Louis's bloodstream seems to be doing its job. 

Harry decides he should probably just try to go back to sleep. Maybe Louis will be awake and his tumor magically gone by morning. If only. 

Harry's eyes are only closed for a couple of minutes when he hears movement in front of him. Harry doesn't think he's ever opened his eyes as fast as he does in this moment. "Louis?" he says into the dark room. He receives no response. A few seconds later though, a short gasp is heard, and Harry recognizes the sound immediately. "Louis," he says again, standing and leaning over the side of the bed this time. 

"Harry?" Louis says with fear in his eyes. "What's happening?" Louis sees the needle in his arm and gasps again, reaching his other hand towards it. 

"No, Louis, don't," Harry says, grabbing his hand and bringing it to his lips. "It's helping you."

"What happened?" 

"You collapsed outside the flat, Lou," Harry swallows, tears forming in his eyes again. "I don't know how long you were lying there, but it took you being gone for 15 minutes for me to go look for you."

Louis looks around the room nervously for a moment before bringing his gaze back to his boyfriend. "Harry, you have to turn me."

Harry sighs, dropping his head to rest on the railing of the bed before he looks up at Louis again. "Lou-"

"Harry, I can feel it," Louis interrupts, tears brimming his eyes. "I don't have much longer, I can  _feel_  it. A couple of weeks at most."

"Louis, I can't do that to you," Harry weeps, brushing the hair out of Louis's eyes. 

"I am  _asking_  you for this, Harry. I don't want to die. I can't leave you like this. I need to stay. You're the only way I can stay!" Louis pleads. 

"Louis, I can't," he breathes. 

" _Please_ , Harry!"

"No!" Harry shouts louder than he means to as he pushes himself away from the bed and faces away from Louis. 

"Why  _not_?" Louis fights back.

"We've talked about this, Louis," Harry says as he turns back around, revealing his tear-stained cheeks. 

"No, Harry,  _you've_  talked about this. You won't even  _think_  about what I want."

"Because, you don't understand the amount of pain you'll be facing!" Harry breaks down, his sobs racking throughout his entire body as he speaks. "There's no way your body will be able to handle it. Not in the condition it's in. You'll die anyways," he finishes in almost a whisper as he approaches the bed once again. 

"You don't know that for sure," Louis replies quietly. 

Harry squeezes his eyes shut and takes another deep breath. He grabs Louis's hand when he opens his eyes again. "I can't do it, love. I can't."

"This is bullshit," Louis hisses. "You're just going to let me die?"

Harry's hurt that Louis actually thinks that he would would just  _let_  him die. Harry knows that if he turned him, he would die anyways. It would be a much more painful death, but Louis doesn't seem to want to wrap his mind around that fact. 

Before Harry can answer, there's a knock on the door. "Come in," he calls weakly. 

"Sorry, I heard talking," the doctor says as she walks through the door. "I figured since you're awake, we could go ahead and talk about what's happening," she smiles, and Louis nods, wiping his cheeks dry. 

///

A few days later, Louis's still in the hospital, and they're not letting him out without a fight anytime soon. 

The doctor didn't tell them anything that Louis didn't already know. He has a week or two. Maybe three if all else goes well. 

Harry has barely left his side since he's been in the hospital. Only every other day for about an hour to feed while Louis sleeps. Or tries to sleep. It's hard to sleep when you know you're dying. 

"Hey, Lou?" Harry says from beside him. He's been sleeping in Louis's bed and cuddling him whenever he possibly can since the second night. 

"Yeah, Haz?" Louis replies weakly. 

"I love you."

"I love you more," Louis replies as he strokes Harry's hair while the taller boy lays his head on his chest. 

"Not possible," Harry smiles, shifting his position so that the two are nose-to-nose. He lifts his hand up to Louis's cheek and kisses him with everything in him, because he knows that he won't get to do that for much longer. Every kiss kills him a little more inside. 

///

Harry comes back from feeding one night a week later to find Louis awake again.

He had fallen asleep after their second game of scrabble a few hours earlier. He seemed to be doing alright. He was laughing and cussing Harry whenever he got another triple word score and kissing him when Harry let him win. 

But now. Now Louis looks awful. He's pale again. But he's so much paler. His eyes are tired again. But, god, there's no life in them anymore. 

"Harry," Louis says weakly from the bed as he walks back through the door. He holds his hand out, and Harry quickly comes to his side, taking his hand in his with worry written on his face. 

"Louis," Harry whimpers. "What's going on? You were fine a few hours ago, what's happening?"

"Harry, I can-," Louis begins, having to take a moment to take a breath between his words. "I can feel it."

Harry's eyes widen as they immediately begin to water. "No," he whispers. 

"I think this is it, love," Louis breathes. He can barely even talk, he's so weak right now. 

"No!" Harry says again, louder this time. "You're not-you're not dying right now, Louis Tomlinson," he sobs. 

"Harry, it's okay," Louis smiles weakly, reaching his other hand over to capture Harry's hand in both of his. "I've already talked to the doctor. We knew this was happening."

"It's not! It's not happening, Louis, you can't-" he sobs. "you can't just leave right now."

"Everything will be alright, love." Louis has to force his eyes open. "Just come cuddle me," he says, holding his arms out slightly. "That's all I need."

Harry knows how unattractive he must look right now. Tears running down his terribly contorted face, his skin red and blotchy, and his hair a complete mess. He can't give up on Louis, though. He was still supposed to have a little while longer. Harry can't let Louis die in a hospital. 

"I'll cuddle you at home, Lou," Harry says decidedly, pulling the railing on the side of the bed down and detaching him from all of the different machines. 

"What?" Louis asks, confused. 

"You're not dying in a hospital. I'm taking you home," Harry says through his sobs as he scoops Louis up in his arms for what might be the last time. He didn't even realize how much weight Louis's lost until now. His bones are sharp and uncomfortable, and Harry can't stop crying. 

Louis just nods and wraps his weak arms around Harry's neck, too tired to fight back, as if he even wants to. 

Harry doesn't even check Louis out of the hospital. He just runs. And runs. And runs. Until finally they're home. He runs Louis upstairs to their bed and lays him down gently, carefully removing the hospital gown from his body and putting him in his favorite and comfiest grey joggers and one of his many white t-shirts that he loves. 

"Cuddle me now," Louis says quietly, holding his arms out for Harry to crash into. 

Harry takes what might be his one last look at Louis's full body while it's alive, before he buries himself in Louis's arms. Louis's beautiful arms that Harry feels like he's never appreciated before. He pays extra close attention to every detail of how Louis holds him. One arm under his head and one wrapped around his waist while his little fists grip onto Harry's t-shirt. One of his legs is in between the two of Harry's. His face is nuzzled into Harry's chest, and the smell of the top of Louis's head is one that Harry wants forever. 

He hears and feels Louis gasp in what seems like fear and grip onto Harry tighter. "Harry," he breathes, pulling his face up from Harry's chest and looking him in the eyes. Even with barely any life in them, Louis's eyes are still the most beautiful he's ever seen in all of his time. He wishes he could stare into them forever. He knows what that gasp means. 

He studies every aspect of Louis's face as he weeps his reply. "Yeah, Lou?"

"I love you," Louis says, a tear rolling down his face as he fights to keep his eyes open. "so much."

"I love you so much more," Harry sobs, squeezing Louis closer to himself and pressing their lips together. Harry savors every second of the kiss, trying his hardest to memorize the feeling. How easily their lips fit together. How soft Louis's mouth is against his. He memorizes and memorizes the kiss until the worst thing that's ever happened to Harry happens. Harry feels one last staggering breath come from the love of his life, and Louis's lips stop pressing back against his. The grip of his fists on Harry's shirt loosen. His entire body becomes limp in that moment. 

If Harry thought before that he had felt the most pain anyone could ever feel when he was turned, he was so, so wrong. 

The pain he's feeling right now. This  _excruciating_  pain in his chest, in his heart, in his lungs. This pain that's taking over his entire body. This pain that's forcing him to scream his lungs out to try and make some of it just _go away_. The pain he felt when he was turned can, in no way, compare to the pain that he's feeling right now, in this very moment. Nothing could ever compare to this. 

The man in his arms that's causing this excruciating pain inside of Harry that Harry is squeezing with all of his might (as if that could somehow make him come back to him) is the  _one thing_  he's ever needed to keep for as long as possible. Harry  _needs_  Louis. He thought he would have Louis until Louis was 100 and wrinkly, and  _then_  he'd have to deal with this. Not now. 

Harry needs Louis. Harry  _needs_  Louis. What the fuck is Harry thinking? No. No, he  _needs_  Louis. 

"Fuck!" Harry yells as he holds Louis tightly in his arms. "I'm not letting this happen," he says to himself as he chokes on his breaths. "This can't happen."

Harry pulls his head back to look at Louis's lifeless face as it slowly becomes paler and paler and his body slowly becomes colder and colder against Harry's skin. 

"You're not fucking dying," Harry growls in anger. 

As fast as he pulled his head away, he brings his mouth to Louis's neck and  _bites_. He musters up all of his self control as he drinks just the right amount of Louis's blood, and  _dear god_ , it's the sweetest blood he's ever tasted. 

He forces himself to pull away and just as quickly bites into his own wrist, sucking his own blood out and spitting it into Louis's mouth more than once, praying to every god that anyone's ever believed in that this works. 

" _Please!_ " Harry pleads with Louis as tears run down his face. "Please, wake up," he cries. The lifeless boy stays just like he is. Lifeless. Harry's lips quiver again as he strokes the cheek of the most beautiful person he's ever met. "I'm so sorry," he whispers to him, burying his face in Louis's chest and crying into it. 

What feels like an eternity later, but is actually probably closer to a minute, Harry swears he feels something move, but he attributes the sensation to his imagination. 

Another eternity passes before Harry feels it again. He raises his head from Louis's chest to look at his face while he cries. 

He's just about to place his head down again when suddenly a puff of air comes from Louis's open mouth, and his chest raises slightly. 

Harry sits up in shock. "Louis?" he says with hope filling his voice as he shakes the boy. 

Another burst of air is released from Louis's mouth a moment later and suddenly, he's  _coughing_. Harry never thought that the sound of someone coughing would be the most beautiful one he's ever heard, but here he is. 

Louis's coughing like no one's ever coughed before, and Harry eventually remembers that he's probably choking on the extra blood in his throat. He quickly but gently pulls Louis so that he's sitting up. Sure enough, blood spurts out of his mouth as he coughs, absolutely ruining their bedding. 

Once Louis's able to get himself to stop coughing for a few minutes, he finally gets the energy to open his eyes, and Harry's crying again. This time though, he's crying the happiest tears he's ever cried. 

Blue eyes meet green once again, and Harry never thought he'd get to see those baby blues again. 

"Y'know, Haz, it's very rude to wake someone up by pouring blood in their mouth," Louis jokes with a hoarse voice, wiping the red from his lips with the back of his hand. 

Harry screams a giddy scream, and he can't help but mount Louis and tackle him in the biggest bear hug that anyone's ever given anyone. "Oh my god," Harry cries, pulling away and looking at Louis's baby blues once again. "I love you," he says frantically, before he takes Louis's face in his hands and kisses him with all his might. "I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," he continues, pecking his lips in between each phrase. 

"I love you too, baby," Louis giggles. "So you finally came to your senses, I see," he teases. "Only took me  _dying_ , I guess."

"Shut up," Harry laughs, kissing him once again, just like Harry will continue to kiss Louis for the rest of eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to formally apologize for this


End file.
